Lilith
by PurpleYin
Summary: Atlantis grieves for a major member.Gone for a month & with no idea of their location or status they must drop efforts for rescue & presume death by Wraith.There is nothing more they could do but then not everything depends on them...Darkfic,McKayWeir,WIP
1. Chapter 1: The Sky is Falling Down

A/N: No matter what you think this is the start of the fanfic, its going to be quite angsty but will get improve I promise.

Spoilers: None I can see so far but its possible that there will be for Epsiodes 1-13 later.

Disclaimer: I think its quite clear I don't own the characters but I'll say it anyway, they belong to whoever it is responsible for production etc of the Stargate franchise. Just some harmless fanfic fun once again.

* * *

At first she had hidden her dark thoughts, putting up her diplomatic facade. The warm smile, the sense of hope and order.

Recently she had stopped.  
No amount of makeup could hide the deep dark circles of her eyes, nothing ultimately could disguise her anguish at what had happened.

It had been quick, at least from the teams perspective.  
He'd just gone, enveloped by the light of a wraith dart.

She'd never seen such herself but she imagined it was some how like the light of heaven staring down upon a person, only the light was false, it led to hell first.

The darts had gone as quickly as they had appeared.  
With Rodney Mckay whisked away through the clouds to who knows where.  
A ship they hadn't found where it should have been.  
Taking her friend with it, if he had still been alive by then.

She choked on the thought, of her 'friend'. She missed him more than she thought she could, showing her just how much he had come to mean to her. She wasn't sure if her feelings were appropriate for that classification.

But it barely mattered now he was gone, except she wished it was as simple as losing a mere friend.

She walked around the table, her free hand tracing the surface. Finding her fingers lacing over where had used to sit. She closed her eyes trying to picture him there, envisage his presence in the chair so close. Wishing her hands could find his fingers as the moved around blindly in a lazy pattern.

But they did not and she came out of her trance by the interuption of Grodin's voice.

"AR-1 are back Doctor Weir. They report Dr. Janson is injured, they are taking her to the infirmary now"

She simply nodded, her back still turned, her fingers idle at Rodney's place.  
Grodin exited knowing it was best to let their leader be alone with her grief.  
For all she knew they thought it just another symptom of the responsibility she had for her people, worsened by her closeness to the latest victim.

She took her hand abruptly off the table, trying to remember that the face she'd see next at that place was that of Dr. Janson. 

She was the fourth replacement for the role Rodney had filled on their main team.

Dr. Zelenka had tested the waters but found himself not up to it physically and the second mistakenly placed person had been Kavanagh.  
She hadn't wanted to put him there but everyone deserved a trial.However he'd rubbed it in all there faces a little too much that he had finally gotten one up on the Canadian, he hadn't even seemed to care he'd only gotten a victory by forfeit, under the death of a man they all agreed was far better than him in almost every way.

She'd dropped Kavanagh by citing him as having unreconciliable differences with the other members. He'd protested like she had wondered if he would. She'd half believed he might be sensitive and not press the issue but he had unfortunately.

Perhaps that had been when she'd broken down, after her outburst at him. For once he hadn't left her office with a smirk, it had taken a morbid rage to shut him up.

That had been three weeks ago.

Dr. Hudson had been next, he was an anthropologist mainly with an odd mix of physics in his education. He wasn't the ideal fit but he'd gotten along with team fine and had been able to keep up.

What had happened to Hudson had perhaps pushed her over further the edge.But atleast they still had Hudson, despite his permanent residence in the infirmary. Carson still held out hope he might wake from his coma. Especially if they could find some Ancient medical gear lying around somewhere in the city.

It seemed the position couldn't be filled by anyone else or else it was the kiss of death, or pain, to those who did like Hudson and Janson.

She hoped Francesca Janson would be alright, she'd grown quite attached to her this last week. The softly spoken french woman had touched her heart, easing her pain a little when she had offered an ear for her problems.  
It was ironic that Francesca had been the one to do that because it was the same role that Rodney had often played to her and she had openly cried at the womans friendly suggestion.Maybe she had only talked to Francesca because she had already shown her her weakness and denying the need would have come off as worse.

Or maybe it was because she was dying inside and talking lifted her sorrow subtlely.

Either way she struggled each day contemplating the decisions she had to make.  
Today she hadn't wanted to get up at all, wishing for a bliss to take it all away, to forget and sleep peacefully once more.  
Today made it an even month that he had been MIA. And they had no leads on where to find him.

It was logical to presume he was not just gone but dead.

She was trying to write the report but found her eyes averting the pages and her feet growing listless at sitting at her desk thinking such thoughts. She didn't want to give up hope on him, she couldn't blankly accept he was no more.

But the report beckoned. She knew procedure and they could spend no more time looking for him, the rescue efforts having been extended far beyond the limits that were normal. She'd had the justification that he was one of the most important members of Atlantis but that only stretched so far when they didn't have a clue.

The futility of the search overcame her along with the despair at having to give up.  
The normaly calm leader of Atlantis sat down in Mckays chair and sobbed, her head in her hands and the unfinished report infront of her.


	2. Chapter 2: The Night in the Darkness

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

They'd been on Narda that day, a small commercial world. Green and blue, pretty in the usual way worlds with humans on were.

People rarely stayed on the planet long but it seemed to be a well known interplanetary marketplace according to Teyla, with traders from many worlds gathering there every week or so.

This was the second time they'd visited, all of them loaded up like donkeys with things Altantis could spare for barter and appropriately his pack was loaded with simple scientific instruments incase of any more technologically advanced societies visiting.

He scoffed at that idea, they'd hardly seen any planets which had technology that stretched into the 1900's by Earth standards.

Teyla was standing across the area with Ford and Sheppard and a dark haired trader.

She'd called those two over a while ago, the trader having expressed any interest in what the other two were carrying as far as he could tell.

So it left him standing bang in the middle of the crowd market square, hundreds bumbling around him, the sounds of the Stargate dialing in the distance barely audible over the crowd.

He felt bored, the trading would likely take ages so he sat down on the monument nearby that served as the marker for the market.

He felt an uneasiness in his stomach but shrugged it off as hunger and tucked into a energy bar.

Rodney always felt better after food, though this time eating didn't shake the feeling. It was odd, like his body revolting against his common sense.

Of course he knew he was being silly, the masses of strange people might have been what was spooking him. he wasn't too sure it was that but he ignored it anyway, settling down to give thought to what Elizabeth had asked him to organise shortly before the start of this mission.

Apparently Peter had suggested a 'quiz and chips' to boost morale and have a bit of fun and she had left him and peter in charge of organising the questions. Obviously the two of them couldn't think up a wide enough base of appropriate questions, their fields being science. Rodney was sure they could add some multicultural questions about England and Canada but still they needed more people, someone for films perhaps. Mostly he wondered where the hell they'd get the chips from for it. It wasn't like Atlantis was a cornucopia of snack food and they'd yet to find something resembling a replicator. Was a shame too, chocolate supplies were getting too low for his liking and he'd been craving doughnuts since they'd gotten there.

It was then he wished he'd taken his gut feeling more seriously. Teyla called out at the same time the sounds of the wraith darts met their ears.

The eery zooming noises of the gliders all around clashed with the screams and shouts of the scared masses.

He lost sight of the rest of the team, panicking he fumbled and dropped his radio, reaching down to pick it up and getting trampled on by a woman pushing through the crowd. She wasn't the only one desperate to get out he noticed, for behind her the beam of a dart approached with people scrambling to get out of the way. Some poor souls stumbled arms reaching out of the beam for help but not enough to save them. No one risked pulling them out incase they too would be sucked away with them.

He heard a shout over the mesmerising melody of the beams approach

"Rodney!" Sheppard called out. He traced the voice back to an opening to the caves, the only refuge and so full that there were people scrambling to get under the shelter. There were women and children and men alike only metres away but unable to escape to it and so taken by the wraith in a split second, despair frozen on the briefly lingering image of their face in the air before they were gone completely.

No one here had expected the Wraith to come and the market was now a throng of fearful people herded like cattle by the wraith shadows. He was in the dead centre of them , no way out except for the path infront being cleared by the shimmering beam, devoid of life and leading to death.

He had swallowed nervously, wishing he believed in some sort of deity to pray for a miracle to.

But there had been nothing left to do except stand and wait for it, he turned his head glancing to the team to say a silent goodbye. They all watched bitterly, unable to prevent it.

* * *

That had been two weeks ago.

The first week they had been kept in a large cell of a hundred or more people, he presumed them all taken from Narda too, some had goods on them still.

They had been fed which had been little comfort to him considering it felt like he was plumping himself up like a Christmas turkey for some hungry Wraith out there, he was as good as a walking happy meal.

So for once he'd lost his appetite, eating only enough to sustain himself and stop a hypoglycemic reaction. But then again even the hardiest of stomach might consider it difficult to keep an appetite when your cell mates disappeared a rate of one every few hours to be drained by life-sucking alien vampires. And why couldn't they just eat cows or something? Though they treated humans like their equivalent anyway.

By the second week there were maybe 40 of them left and that was when they'd moved them to a smaller cell so they could reuse the large cell he guessed, fill it up with more hapless human cattle.

There had been a boy, maybe about eight, who'd tried to escape as they'd escorted them to their new holding place.

He'd run between the long legs of the wraith guard, being so small he'd managed easily and he had smiled for a second in glee to be free but it was short lived, futile and the guards had simply made throaty sounds McKay thought were laughter and drained the poor boy right there in front of his weeping mother.

No one else had done a thing, walking on, beaten down and beyond caring for even themselves. The woman had just stood there watching her sons lifeless body. The guards had shifted, making noises at her whilst she stood ever transfixed by the scene.

So he had cradled her, his arm around her shoulder and pulled her along safely following as instructed down the dark corridors further into the alien ship.

After the first few hours she had stopped crying and spoken a little. Her name was Cinta and her sons name as he already knew had been Armesh. She had chanted the name over and over under her breath as she cried for those hours, not appearing to notice her words, simply her loss.

He had wondered her name since he had woken in the original cell. She was the first person he had noticed there. For a moment he had seen her from behind and his heart caught in both hope and fear because he had sworn she could have been Elizabeth, until she had turned around. Her face was still similar to his leaders but instead of green eyes shining out, grey ones leaked out with fear ever present.

A further week and he, Cinta and a few men had been the only ones spared. They just didn't know for how long, it was only a matter of time as to when they would be fed off from what he knew of their captors.

He remembered seeing his colleagues face on the desert planet, drained of life but for the bare minimum. It had been so bad the guy had taken his own life so not to be a burden. McKay hoped it wouldn't come to that here, not that he'd have such a luxury as to end his own life here.

It was then after two weeks he'd wondered, faltered in his optimism that they, Atlantis, would be coming to rescue him.

And for the first time since he'd been captured he'd let his emotions overcome him and he had cried in the corner trying to hide the very unmanly sniffling from the others. None had said anything, no one was about to judge a soon to be dead man when they were as dead as him.

Now however he was alone. They had taken the three men, Jontu, Kalesi and Farn, over the last day and then separated himself and Cinta a few hours ago.

More alarmingly he was strapped to a chair but he wasn't sure for whose safety.

Perhaps he wouldn't die straight away but interrogation didn't sound too pleasant either.

And what would they want out of him? The location of Atlantis, of Earth even?

He vowed not to break whatever they did.

Not like last time.

He still felt guilty even though everything had turned out fine, the stormed passed with everyone safe.

The pain in his arm had reminded him for a week or two of his cowardice.

He'd only been able to look Elizabeth and the others in the eye those weeks because he knew he had helped save them all, as well as damning them by giving Koyla what he'd wanted.

He'd held out for a little while, trying to be brave, but bravery could only go so far when faced with the imminent threat of amputation.

He'd given in because he'd rather normally wanted his arm, being quite attached to it like any sane person.

That was how Koyla had got to him, he'd known the price of his arm hadn't been worth withholding the information. He couldn't save the city when dying of blood loss, couldn't do his science too well with only one arm either.

But this time the Wraith wouldn't have anything to hold over him except his own life, which he already knew was doomed.

He'd trust a Wraith about as a far as he could walk strapped into this chair. Even if they offered him his life it wasn't worth condemning the others. It wasn't worth giving them all, and Elizabeth, over to the Wraith for.

Better he be dead than a traitor, no matter what the pain. And he repeated it over and over as he sat suspended in the chair in the dark waiting for them to start and get it all the sooner over with.


	3. 3:Just Another Reality I Cant Believe In

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Just another reality I can't believe in**

* * *

Elizabeth watched the ocean. It reminded her of his eyes. She'd never consciously noted what colour they were but as she stared out to the sea she could see his face and the eyes that had often pleaded with her, consoled her, reassured her. 

They were all out one of the piers. Everyone gathered for the memorial that John, Carson and Victor Zelenka had arranged. She was grateful to them for it, she'd hadn't had the strength of mind to deal with anything like this.

And as much as they all needed this closure she felt like they were letting him go, that he would become a distant memory. Someone to miss instead of mourn.

They spoke as if he was dead and she knew he probably was but it felt like murdering him holding this. He was only missing she thought, as if at sea, as if he might wash up ashore alive and complaining as usual. Piping up about how hungry he was and had they found anything interesting whilst he'd been gone.  
And he was gone she admitted. Nothing would colour that fact.  
But out here by the sea was the best send off they could wish for.  
The blue depths could serve as her reminder, tugging her memory back to the intensity of his eyes, and she dearly hope she would not lose that image as she had lost him.

John had finally finished talking, the words having washed over her.  
There was a silence as the Athosians set out a raft, their own personal way of letting go of a man that though few knew all were grateful to for his help.  
She had followed the raft out into the horizon, long after the others had gone inside.

She'd wanted to be alone but it seemed John wasn't happy with that.  
Did he think she'd throw herself into the sea?

"Elizabeth, its time to go in."  
She stood silent still watching the horizon.

He embraced her loosely, trying to turn her around and steer her inside.  
"It's getting cold out here, you need to go inside. There food and drink you'll feel better once you've had some."

Her response bit back at his careless words.  
"Will I? Because I don' think so and I don't want to go in their and celebrate and pretend everything is okay."

His face was grave, a mild hurt on it too for what she had said. She knew John was only concerned but she hated his choice of words, they stung more than the seaspray did against her face. She couldn't imagine a time when she would feel better than this.  
But John didn't give up, he was stubborn as a mule.  
"You don't have to pretend, no one is but you should celebrate. You should remember what a great man McKay was. Obnoxious and arrogant at times, well most of the time actually but we need to remember that as well as how brave he was, what he did for us, he saved us too many times to count."

She glared back at him, wondering how he could speak like that.  
"Thats just it I don't want to remember him, to remember how he _was_. I don't want to give up on him John."

His look pitied her, angering her further but he didn't leave it at that.  
"You know he's dead Elizabeth, there's no way he'd still be alive. Even when they wanted information from Sumner they still sucked the life out him soon enough when he didn't give it to them. How is Rodney going to fare any better?"

She turned away from him, if only she could ignore what he was saying as easily but she knew that tactic wouldn't work. He'd carry on until he thought she understood, only she didn't think she could so he would have to instead.  
"And how do you know he won't? He might have escaped, might be out there on some godforsaken planet unable to reach us..."

He'd stopped her, making as if to shake her out of whatever spell he thought her under but he only held her arms length away, supporting her.  
"Get a hold of yourself Elizabeth. I know this is hard and you don't want to accept it but you're going to have to. You're the leader of Atlantis, we need you and if you don't deal with this I'm not sure you'll be fit for command."  
She tore away from his grasp, furious at what he was insinuating.  
"Are you threatening me?"  
Once more his look pitied her and she wondered when he'd stop looking at her like that, when he would just let her be and let her sort herself out because he couldn't help her no matter what he said.  
"No, I'm asking you as a friend to find a way to cope because you're clearly not and it'll tear you apart. You can't take the blame for this, its not your fault."

That had been the end of the discussion. She'd left feeling worse than she had at the beginning of the day. A wash of emotions overcoming her, tiredness, hopelessness and a fear that what he'd said had made sense.

* * *

She lay down on the bed. Placing her laptop on her chest and began to write.  
This was the only thing she could think to do. 

It was on his file, as with everyone, who he wished to be written to in the event of his death.  
There were three names only.  
The first was his sister, Jeannie.  
The second a woman she didn't know but was recorded as his cat-sitter. With instructions that she tell her he died a courageous death and that his neighbour could keep his cat  
The third however surprised her.

Samantha Carter.

He'd talked of her before, often with a rapture in his eyes. She knew he'd had a thing for her but she'd never taken it too seriously until she had seen this.

What could she say?

She wasn't even sure how much Carter cared for Rodney. Whether it had been a work relationship, a friendship or more as she had dismissed.  
She tried to find an angle to write the letter from but she had nothing. What could she say that would make it better, there wasn't anything she could say to herself.

So she tried writing the truth. It was what anyone who knew him deserved to know.

_Dear Lt. Col. Carter_

_As a dear friend of his it pains me to inform you that Doctor Rodney McKay is missing in action, presumed dead._

_I do not know the nature of your relationship with Rodney but I want you to know we tried everything we could to rescue him. He was a good man and a very close friend of mine and all of Atlantis will miss him._

_He was taken by the Wraith, a powerful enemy we have discovered in the Pegasus galaxy, whilst on a mission on another world. After a month of reconnaissance we were unable to locate the position of his holding, leaving us with no choice but to end our efforts to recover our chief science officer._

_I would like to say that Rodney did not suffer but we cannot know what fate he had and I will not lie about the unpleasantness of the death the Wraith most likely committed him to. It is likely he was killed within a day of his capture, drained of life, treated as food for our enemy._

_I was surprised to see your name on the list of those he wished to be informed of his death. Rodney has mentioned you a few times but I'm afraid I never took him too seriously. Infact I get the impression he was a little jealous of your work but he seemed to hold a fondness and admiration for you which I have rarely seen him extend to someone. I know therefore he must think a great deal of you, of which I am enviable. _

Now she knew the letter wasn't what she'd be sending, or at least this draft. The last paragraph had been far to personal, more truthful on paper than she had been in her own head.

Why was she envying Sam Carter for being the one who got a letter like this? Or was it just she was jealous he would think of her, a woman he hadn't seen for months, who he exaggerated his relationship with; who she knew had no interest in him if the rumours were true. Upset because Sam Carter would have this letter, because he wanted her to know and Elizabeth herself was left with nothing of him. Just a duty to inform everyone else, to write formal reports, to bear it and carry on. That she was expected to get over it and do her job like it wasn't anything more than she had done before, like he was no more important than Colonel Sumner or anyone else who had died so far. Because she knew that wasn''t true and that it wasn't appropriate, like she wasn't allowed to show she cared. To just make out like he was another unfortunate soul she had failed. No, it hurt more than the rest had altogether. Rodney McKay had left a hole too large in her life for her to repair and yet no one could know how important he had been.

She found she didn't want to stay there alone and she didn't want to join the callous celebration of his life, as if remembering him made it all alright.

There was only one place she could think that would comfort her.

* * *

The halls were cold and dark as she moved through them, devoid of all life. Mirroring how her heart felt. 

The walk seemed longer too in her anticipation but eventually she found herself there.  
Moving through past his lab to his quarters.

She passed her hand over the crystals thinking how many times his hand must have touched them too.  
And she entered the room. It wasn't especially tidy or messy, it felt lived in ironically. The air was slightly stale indicating no one had been there for some time, it pleased her somehow that it was untouched, like she could imagine him having only just left, perhaps only somewhere else on Atlantis rather than out there and gone.

She glanced around not sure what to do but not wanting to leave. Only there wasn't really much to his stuff. Thee were a few textbooks lying around, she picked one up, opening the front cover and seeing his scruffy handwriting there. His name was typed out boldly: RODNEY McKAY and she was sure like him it would shout out a warning of 'hands off, this is my book'. She almost felt like she should have put the book down, after all she wasn't much for science, she had preferred to negotiate order in life rather than find and explain it as he was so eager to do.

Her eyes became wet with tears once she realised he would never do so again. Never see him looking up with a boyish excitement at the latest discovering, nearly stumbling over his words trying to get his message through to the rest of them.

The hate welled up inside herself at the Wraith for taking away something so precious, his life not even half lived, the adventure only begun such a short time ago. He'd never unearth the secrets of the Ancients with them as they hoped they would one day.

From then on she couldn't stop her tears from flowing, as thought after thought of damnation to the enemy and resentment for what was lost consumed her.

Her knees became weak as she heaved her sobs and he fell into his bed, the covers left thrown open.She'd given up on him finally, given in to the feelings, absolving herself into his bed. Pulling the covers over her body and grasping them tight, the closest she could be to him, as she fell into a fitful dream.


	4. 4:A Superficial Beauty Hiding Horror

uthors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

And as you may be able to see this fic is going to get much, much worse before getting remotely better. So be warned.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

They'd left him there for a day without water or food. And when he said they he knew it was really her doing. 

She'd entered softly, his preoccupied mind not noticing her slow deliberate footsteps that traced to his chair. She had come to him out of the darkness, her pale figure almost divine.

He'd never seen a female Wraith before, her turquoise hair exotic, her form like something from the fantasy realm. She looked almost Elfin, a bizarre middle ground between an elf and an orc, the hunger and violence of one and the grace and style of the other.

Until she spoke he'd had no idea she could see into his mind.  
"Do you like what you see, Doctor" her voice rasped the end of the sentence, in a way that was sensual yet dangerous.  
He didn't answer, his mind disgusted at the idea. But of course she sensed that feeling too.  
Her face scowled, baring her sharp teeth and he suddenly saw how very much he had been right.

She was divine, like an angel, a fallen angel. Not the traditional cherubs and light angels everyone thought of but as those who carried the wrath of God, to be fearful of, further devastated by their fall from grace into the demonic realm. All their beauty twisted into darkness and cruelty.  
That was why he'd named her Lilith.At first she'd asked if he felt her like the beautiful namesake, mistaking the brief image of a lily in his mind. Her voice had almost purred as she spoke of it, as if she thought him complementing her.  
"You wish me to be sweet like the name sake of my, the dear lily I see in your memories."

He'd laughed, her face still and serious at that waiting for explanation  
"Hardly. No, I named you after a temptress, a witch."  
She had sneered at him and drawn away stalking off towards the door.

It was then he realized there was a limit to what she could read of his mind. Only seeing what was on the surface and only if she were closer enough.

She had however stood there looking at him as if deciding what to do with him.  
"You have been here for one of your lunar cycles. I'm sure you will have a lot to think of that Doctor."  
She'd said it with a venom and he'd felt sick at the realisation.

He'd thought it had only been two weeks maybe closer to three.  
It hadn't been easy to know how much time had passed, for relying on his sleep cycles and the irregular feeding times made it difficult to estimate. The wraith only feeding their cattle when they sensed the hunger of the most.  
And it wasn't as if there were any windows to tell the natural days by, the Wraith didn't strike him as beings that worried about vitamin D deficiency. After all if they wanted some all they needed to do was suck a human with some, if that was even how it worked.

He fought the despair. They weren't coming for him. It was already too late for sure. The only way out was up to him.  
For once Rodney didn't have the safety net of assuming Sheppard and the others would save him.  
There would be no rescuers barging in, blowing the Wraith sky high and then untying him, hugs all round and a happy ending back at Atlantis.

Lilith had come back later on, looking all the happier for his subdued misery.  
He tried to feel better, cheerful even, just to spite the Wraith and the only thing he had come up with had been Elizabeth's image and that had been a mistake.  
"You find her more attractive than I?"

He tried to avoid thinking anything, nervous of what else he would give away. So he kept his mind to Elizabeth knowing it was too late to retract the image.  
"Do not compare me to weak human forms, I would make a formidable lover"

He wondered if that was even possible, if humans and Wraith could breed. It was a horrible idea and he doubted it was very socially acceptable to mate with your meal. Took the phrase 'don't play with your food' a little too far.

She was certainly playing up to her name well though, Lilith the seductress being one of the titles the demoness had had through the ages.  
She moved closer, trailing her metal clawed finger down his cheek.  
He couldn't help but shiver in disdain at her touch and she ran her other finger down his left cheek, pressing in further, drawing a tender cut with the tip. A stark line of bright red blood on his face that obviously pleased her aesthetics.

She looked smug at his horror and he couldn't resist pissing her off for that.  
"Yes, well you see formidable isn't a quality I'd look for in a lover, nor is the ability to suck all the life out of me. Kind of puts a dampener on a relationship, don't you think."  
It was as sarcastic as he had been so far. But sarcasm wasn't something Lilith was amused by.  
She left without a word, in a storm.

For that she'd starved him a further day, trying to break him with hunger.  
And he knew it would work, his blood sugar levels dangerously low.

When she reappeared he'd been afraid but strong, asking her why didn't she get on with it.  
She'd smiled sweetly like a teacher humouring a student who didn't know the answer and had left him there for 2 days or so as far as he could guess the time to be, though at least providing him with food and water sent by speechless masked guards.

Then they'd come to get him. The guards escorting him to another place.  
Not answering his pleas, he had no idea what they were up to.  
The room had been as large as the other he had come from but there were many more guards and two figures, one he recognized immediately as Lilith, in the spotlit centre.

Lilith came to him, tipping up his head with a finger under his chin. He tried to resist but the claw dug in painfully and he grimaced, doing as she wished him to.  
At that she had smiled and motioned to an odd stool.

They placed him in it, forcing him to his knees, and his body resting on the too high broad stool and his head into a brace. Positioning him so he could not look away from the figure in the dead centre.  
It was Cinta  
He had no idea what they were playing at but he didn't have a good feeling about this.

Lilith stalked around towering over him, blocking his view of Cinta's restrained unconscious form.  
"Now the questions shall begin Doctor. Please do not lie, for the pain will not be yours to bare."  
Weirdly she looked strained as the mention of much a possibility, the simplicity being he supposed that she must think his best option obvious.  
Then she came closer, head tilted to the side, her amphibian shaped mouth speaking the English words slowly and simply, so he could not mistake them.  
"Where is Earth?"


	5. Chapter5:Only skin deep,but flesh hurts

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

And as you may be able to see this fic is going to get much, much worse before getting remotely better. So be warned.

Also rating has gone up, for both content and a bit of language.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

Her head felt light as she opened her eyes meeting the image of her own red eyes staring back at her.  
She couldn't recall the mirror ever being there.  
But she felt drawn to it.  
Reaching out to the surface, the tip of her finger disturbing, rippling out from it.  
She sunk her hand in experimentally, finding it blended around her fingers, moving like naquadah.  
And looking up into the mirror she saw him behind her in the distance.  
But turning to the room he was not there.  
She moved her attention to the mirror, her ears hearing a voice so subtle it was no more than a whisper on a wind, calling her into it. 

She plunged her arm finding herself pulled through.  
She tumbled numbly into a dark room as screams permeated it.

Her heart froze as she saw who they came from.  
Her vision was hazy, as if a mist came over it, only the centre remotely focused.  
But she knew it was him. Strapped into a kneeling position.  
A wraith standing to one side.

She couldn't hear the words spoken, only a malicious hissing at first.  
She walked around the room, clearly none of them saw her there.  
As if she was a phantom but reaching for them they shifted like shadows moving from her hands, untouchable.

Finally the words started to make sense, becoming English.  
"Please do not try my patience Doctor, I am becoming tired of this cycle."  
He mumbled something incoherently.  
"Why do you prolong her suffering?"

At this Elizabeth saw the Wraith point to a figure in the centre, draped off something like a cross.

Her head was hung and momentarily Elizabeth felt as if she was seeing herself, the only difference were the grey streaks permeating the hair of the head that dropped weakly down do her chest, where her shirt was torn open exposing her breasts, marked by the wounds of a Wraith hand.

"The resemblance is amazing is it not?  
For a second she thought the wraith was addressing her but she was talking to Rodney.  
Who raised his head to the prone figure and started crying, a silent pleading on his face for them to stop.  
But they did not.

The Wraith only moved away, taking her hand and placing it the womans chest.  
Elizabeth watched as the Wraith drained life further, the womans head flying up awake in pain. She saw the difference immediately, someone not herself but so similar.

So similar that the battered Rodney seemed not to be able to tell the difference.  
His face distorted in anguish, sobbing away, his salty tears mixing painfully into the tears on his cheeks.  
Her heart broke to see his suffering.  
And she cried out, her hand to her mouth, as he muttered a so soft final plea to his tormentors.  
"Elizabeth! I'm so sorry, please forgive me. Please stop this, Please stop hurting her. Please. Please"  
It was like a mantra he kept saying to keep himself sane but it was traumatizing to hear its repetition.

The Wraith bitch walked back proudly to her victim.  
"Are you happy now Doctor. We will have to stop. I'm afraid you friend here has run out of life. And if we continue this little game your brain will be damaged beyond repair. We wouldn't want that, not with such precious information in there."

"You could have avoided this you know, all we wanted was answers."  
The wraith was at eye level, Elizabeth noted he had enough strength to glare back at the creature.  
And suddenly he spat in its face, a bitter happiness to his resulting smile as he replied  
"I know its the thought that counts but I thinks it always better to actually give something too and bet you didn't think I would when you tried to read me."

The wraith looked disgusted but did not move. Taking an authoritative stance.  
"We will talk again Doctor and sooner or later you will not be able to resist. Your mind will break, it is human and therefore fragile. You should accept this fact now rather than when I have drained you of all but the last drop of your life. Which is what I will do if you continually resist me."

She sauntered off, stopping to add bleakly "After the torture of course."  
He cried out " Then what do you call this?"  
There was no answer and as she saw him give in to exhaustion she felt her head swimming, a funny sensation pulling her out of the room.

"Elizabeth! Elizabeth, are you okay."  
A concerned looking Carson hung over her, Teyla next to him, equally troubled.  
She said nothing, confused, only staring up her body stiff and made cold by the sweat on her skin.

"You wer' screamin' bloody blue murder, Teyla heard ya and came an' got meh."  
She couldn't think of what to say as her mind came back to her.  
"Just...had a nightmare."  
He didn't seem to satisfied with the answer but accepted it  
"Right"

She pushed up, her arms supporting her behind her back, when Carson let go of her forearms.No one said anything for a moment.

"We'd betta get ya to the infirmary. I want ta take a good look at you."  
She only nodded realising it would be a good idea, for she certainly didn't feel herself.

Her two friends carried her weary body to the infirmary in silence, her arms over their shoulders.  
All the way her mind was haunted by her dreams as much as she had been in her sleep.  
The pale, ghostly image of Rodney McKay imprinted there, so she saw it when she closed her eyes, like there was no escape. She hoped she'd have a better image to replace it with because it wasn't the way she wanted to remember him.


	6. Chapter 6: Hail to the Thief

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

He knew he'd been drugged, it had been hard to convince his brain it had been Cinta they'd killed and not Elizabeth.  
He'd almost given in when he'd started believing that, only he kept on picturing her, reminding himself it wasn't what it seemed.  
That it was Cinta; Cinta who'd wanted it to happen.

He'd tried to stop them taking her from the cell when they had separated them a week or more a go.  
He'd failed but as she'd left she'd turned back to him a small weak smile on her lips.

She'd been happy, willing her death, her reunion with her son as she saw it.  
But she hadn't been expecting such a prolonged and painful death, the days of torture for both f them with his never ending refusal to give the wraith what they wanted.  
Only happiness, the good in it was that she is set free by it in the end

Except the wraith probably sucked souls too, leaving them without existence. It was a harsh unhopeful thought he couldn't help but have.

Either way Cinta was gone.  
They'd left her there for him to watch for several hours. Her body limp, eyes open staring to the floor sadly. She didn't look too happy to him, despite his certainty she's wished to die.

The horror of it wasn't lost of him though, Cinta had been saved just so he could watch. her pain extended to extend his pain.  
As if his throbbing head from the probing and chemicals hadn't been enough along with the wraiths scratches.

She seemed to bestow them sweetly upon him, like a kiss. Not of fondness but a mark. Like he was her pet. Hers to order and punish.

There had been plenty of punishment too. She couldn't understand his resistance and even seemed afraid he'd managed to evade her combination of hallucinogenic bombardment, psychological befittingly and psychic intrusion. He'd even caught a glimpse of fear in her eye the first time he'd stopped her from seeing into him. Since then she seemed more determined to break him and so he was sure any fear was a fear of failure. He thought he might be a project for her. His pet status, the markings by her, as a warning to others who wanted the glory of getting information out of him. He'd heard wraith voices outside the entrance several times. It made him feel a bit better to know she was under pressure, that the Wraith weren't singularly powerful beings. They had an order, perhaps a hierarchy.

But how he wished he could have cradled his head in his arms, away from the spotlit scene in front of him.

She'd mentioned several times the threat of brain damage from what she was doing. He didn't take it idly though he'd already vowed that not even his own life mattered. He wondered exactly what she was doing to him, all he knew was it made his head hurt agonisingly, the bright light scalding him more. They had a limit though, after which they'd leave him for a few hours, administering a painful chemical into his system. For awhile it would increase the aching in his head but it was some sort of healing agent that allowed them to try again, the damage repaired and ready to be redone if he once again resisted.

And it was surprisingly easy to resist once he'd worked it out.  
They could only see the forefront of the thoughts so all he gave them was himself.

By now he was sure she had grown weary of the images he'd projected of his childhood and the haunting melodies of his favourite piano pieces interspliced with his thought of Elizabeth. Nothing more than his feelings, nothing specific enough to give any information away.

But it was fun to infuriated Lilith with the visage of her. Almost as if it made Lilith jealous.  
Or perhaps it was she couldn't feed off anything remotely positive.  
That almost made up for the cruel rehashing of every bad memory she found in him.

Every other emotion going through his mind she relished, stripping away somehow.  
Fear made her smile, anguish made her laugh, pain made her happy but love she couldn't use.  
It seemed to be a flavour Lilith despised, thought unpalatable to her mind.

Often giving up on interrogation frustrated at how much hope Elizabeth could invoke, how he held on for her instead of falling to pieces and opening wide to the Wraith and their wishes.

But Lilith was full of surprises and just when he thought she had nothing left she'd found more to toy with him.  
And he completely underestimated how much of a pet he was to her.

They'd let him out but on a leash. Placing a control collar on him. There were no gadgets to press to make it buzz him, it didn't even seem based on electricity but he didn't want to tempt her to activate it even if he saw no means for her to do so.

He escorted her to what she had eloquently called the banquet.  
He'd been quiet, unsure whether that meant his time was finally up.  
He could only hope.

When they arrived Lilith had smirked at the guards as they passed, showing off her prize.  
Rodney had followed her in mutely thinking nothing could be worse than anything she'd come up with yet.

The room was enormous and held a surprising amount of furnishings compared to what he'd seen before however that did not hold his attention.

It was like something out of a horror film.  
Humans milled around, hung tied to the walls and strapped into chairs. Instruments of torture were strategically placed too. A great number of Wraith were amongst them, stopping to take their pick of their food and to play with it too, inflicting their savoured pain and fear upon them before sucking their life out. It was such a contrast the near glee and eagerness of the hungry lustful Wraith set against the utter chaos, death and decay of their unfortunate victims whose corpses and skeletons lay sprawled around haphazardly without any attention.

"Why are you showing me this, these, things?" he hoped he sounded disgusted even though he could barely speak, spitting out the word things because by right there was no names for such misery, only a place, the depths of hell.

It felt like he was in the ninth ring of hell, reserved for traitors, betrayers. Even though he'd yet to give up his secrets to her.  
She grinned amused by his ignorance.  
"Because you abhor these things." and she smiled pleasantly enjoying his brief confusion.

The answer seemed as awful as the reality would be should it come to that.  
"It adds to my flavour I presume"

"You are smart my one"  
"I'm not yours!" he shouted out in defiance. Feeling his blood boil in anger. Would the stupid Wraith never realise he would die before he broke, that he would not condemn those he loved to the same fate.

Her smile faltered at his disobedience and at his flash of hope which she saw embodied in the woman she'd tried to eradicate from his mind.

"Don't worry yourself about that, about her, your Elizabeth, she is as dead to you as you are to her, as that pathetic woman is upon the cross. You are mine now, always mine"

Then she had hit him with the fury. The collar grasping his neck tightly to which his hands could not remove it. His lungs heaved for air as his neurons simultaneously burst into flames of white hot pain, hitting every part of him at once, erasing all feeling in its overload. Leaving only the clear memory of that which inflicted the state. Very briefly she got her wish, in his pain his body given over to her control.

Only she couldn't keep him under this spell for it would kill him and that would have been merciful, something he knew she would never do until she had attained her goal. Even then she would kill him not for mercy or out of gratefulness but as her victory and vengeance.

Emotion sucked dry  
Feeling high but I am not  
Lack of emotions making it all so clear  
And any one that appears is seen so starkly  
Knowing truth  
Clawing at it, trying to keep  
Don't take away my soul, my very being  
Don't let them take away all the feeling


	7. Chapter 7: When All is Lost

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 7: When all is lost**

* * *

"Well you seem to be ok, apart from your lack of decent sleep."  
She nodded, slipping herself off the bed lithely.  
"I'd prescribe some pills for it but I don't think that will solve the problem in this case."  
She stopped, standing still at his hand catching her arm.  
"Would it help to talk about it?"  
Her eyes broke their stare at the floor to face his worried gaze.

"Come with me." he said gently, placing his hand against the base of her back.  
She found herself confiding in the man, relaxed by his gentle coaxing of the issue.

"It felt so real."  
Her voice silently pleaded for it to have been real no matter what that meant.  
"Your dream?" he asked as he guided her into his office and toward a seat.

"I woke up in the quarters and there was this mirror, similar to the Stargate. I got sucked through to where he was, they were torturing him Carson." she tore a tearful look upwards from her wrying hands into his sympathetic expression.

The doctor moved across closer rubbing her back comfortingly.  
"There there pet. Get it all out. No shame in crying" he said as he offered her a hankie for her watery eyes.

He studied her as she whimpered, trying to wipe the tears back faster than they came.  
"If you don't mind me saying I think you need a more direct way to with Rodney's death. I know it feels surreal, especially since we have nothing of him left, nothing to bury. Perhaps it'd do you good to visit Narda, where it happened, just for closure. Otherwise your mind is gonna do itself in, fabricating these god-awful dreams."

* * *

"No, no and no."  
Sheppard stood arms crossed defiantly, not budging one bit. Only he wasn't sure how long he could keep it up with Carson pestering him so diligently. 

"Just for a few hours Major."  
He felt bad denying the request and what was worse he was refusing the Doctor's orders which didn't settle well because he knew Carson meant well, the suggestion was meant to help Elizabeth.  
"Its too much of a security risk."

Carson kept up with his badgering, moving on from his heartfelt pleas to a more direct insistence.  
"Do you really think the wraith are going to come back to a planet they've just culled so soon."  
"No but then maybe thats what they'd like everyone to think." he countered, rather doubting it but it was still a possibility.  
Carson seemed to sense the flicker of uncertainty, homing in on his major weakness.  
"Doctor's orders, Major. " said Beckett, as he mirrored Sheppard's stance.  
"You're not going to let this go are you?"  
"No, and I'm nearly as stubborn as you too."  
Sheppard sighed, consigned to doing what was best even in the face of a high risk.

Carson beamed at him, patting him on the back briefly in his newfound good mood.  
"I really think this will do Elizabeth a world of good."  
"Fine, sure but I hope you're right."  
He watched Carson skip off to the infirmary with the good news.  
He had a bad feeling about going back to the planet but there wasn't much he could do if he wanted their leader back.

* * *

She stood in the gate room, watching the gate dial up. The symbols danced around the ring before finally settling one by one.  
A blink and she missed the explosion of the wormhole establishing.  
It had been a long time since she'd last been through the Stargate and she felt doubly nervous considering where they were venturing. 

But she swallowed her fear thinking of Rodney and praying that she could cope with seeing the last place he had been before it had happened. Hoping too that it would make it sink in that he wasn't coming back, that it wasn't a bad dream and that her bad dreams weren't true.

Finding themselves through the gate she walked around idly, lack of consideration for any danger as Sheppard was annoyed about.  
"Hey, back over here. We haven't secured the area yet." his eyes were harsh, a sour expression visited him.  
"Sorry" she said not really agreeing with what she found her mouth saying.

The world was beautiful, fresh. Not the kind of planet she had expected something so tragic to have occurred on. That only made it more real.

"Where did it happen?"  
The question was so simple and asked in a care free manner that it surprised him, he glanced up to her oddly calm face and pointed across the trees.  
"Over there, bout 1000 yards, at the market."

He turned his back calling over to Ford for confirmation of his initial checks but he'd missed the signs, she was gone.  
Looking sharply up he saw her figure sprinting on the horizon, heading straight for the market.  
"Ford! Double back, we need to cover Weir, at the market." he radioed voice rough as he ran to catch up, Teyla not too far behind him.

He ran all the way to the beginning of the clearing, unable to catch up remotely with her. She was better than a track runner, had she been a runner for county in high school or something equally as grand. All concerns of how she'd managed to outrun him came crashing down in his mind when he saw her there, staring horrified at the body in the middle of the square.

It was a womans, placed bang where they had last seen McKay. And the resemblance of the corpse to Dr. weir wasn't lost on him.  
He slowed down, walking and trying to get his breath back. As he closed in he noticed her shaking, she didn't turn around knowing he was there, just spoke out voice unbelieving.

"I know her. I saw here in a dream"  
He looked over her shoulder a haunted mood on her face.  
" He's alive, he's here"  
And he knew who she meant, there was no other him for her to mean.

"Calm down and explain."  
But she didn't want to be be told that..  
"No, he's here John. That or they are."  
"They? The wraith?"  
He scanned the skies, ears listening out for the telltale noises of darts or any other ships. Nothing.  
On the ground there was no moment either, apart from Teyla and Ford jogging to their position.

Ford landed next to him, taking his time to compare the woman's corpse with Weir. The lieutenant glanced between the two, mouth open slightly.  
"Is that...?"  
Sheppard didn't answer, he was still waiting for Weir to say something more. She seemed to think she knew more than they did.

"The wraith brought her here."  
"And you know this how?" he asked skeptical.  
"I dreamt it."  
He drew in a breath, unsure what to make of what she said.  
"Not exactly reliable but if they've been here then we need to go, before they come back."

His statement apparently broke her train of thought. Up until then she had been quiet, short terse sentences revealing the minimum information. On his words she swung round, face showing fury.  
"No!" she shrieked before continuing in a less forceful manner "Do you know what this means, he could be here. We have to look for him."  
He could hear the desperation in her voice and her eyes searched the tree line frantically.  
"Elizabeth!" He grabbed onto her, knowing they needed to get her out of there fast.  
She tried to twist out of his hold, scraping her nails against him futilely.

* * *

Carson had chosen to wait for the teams return, to see how Elizabeth would be, hanging around in the gate room even though they weren't long gone. 

Suddenly the gate dialed up, Teyla's code transmitted rather unusually.  
Then he saw why.

Sheppard and Ford entered after Teyla, dragging a hysterical Elizabeth with them.  
Carson gulped, knowing this was all him fault. It had been his suggestion and it hadn't helped at all. Quite the opposite.  
He called for a medical team, annoyed he hadn't thought to have any sedatives with him just in case.Several members of Atlantis watched aghast, nobody sure what to do. It was a bizarre scene to witness, the leader of Atlantis fighting tooth and nail against her own men.

She cried out, a few words spoken at last rather than her screams of protest.  
"Let me go! We have to go back for him."  
He had a sinking feeling who she meant was Rodney.  
But what could have happened to make her act like this, what had gone on on the planet?

Sheppard and Ford continued to struggle with Elizabeth as the medical team arrived, Carson taking the sedative from one of the other Doctors.  
As he approached he tried to warn her, settle her down, hoping that it might not be needed. It was still only a last resort.  
She did indeed soften at his arrival and he saw in her expression she hoped he'd understand.  
She started to talk, something about her dream, when the gate activated for a second time.

They all looked up to Grodin who was stationed at the controls.  
He looked back at them equally as confused.  
"No other teams are off world."

Sheppard took charge, asking the man the most important question, though not letting go of his friend.  
"Got any identification?"  
"Not yet but wait for it." was the technicians serene reply.  
They all watched as he moved across to the laptop, face paling, mouth dropping open in surprise.  
He looked up, in shock, telling them very quietly in his broad voice.  
"It's McKay's IDC."


	8. Chapter 8: Where I end and you begin

teAuthors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Where I end and you begin**

**

* * *

**

He laughed, a bitter ironic laugh, that could instill fear in any human because no one would ever believe it would come from one.  
But it did, if he could still call himself that.  
They'd done so much to him that he never knew what reality was.  
They tested him, beating it out of his psyche but he resisted with every ounce of his being. Only every time it felt like they stripped him down and tore away what made him him.

Maybe they really did suck souls he mused. Nothing could surprise him anymore.  
Life and death collided somehow, he wasn't sure which he resided in.  
And there were more than one way to die; not just about body or spirit. They stole his essence, all that seemed to remain was his will that had outlasted his expectations, and of course his humour. Even in this he found the comedy, cruel as it was.

He laughed at the argument he witnessed. Outside in the corridor was his dear crazed Lili being chastised by her superior. It was possible the guy wasn't her boss, but a competitor. He'd often heard hushed wraiths lingering nearby, eager to study him he presumed – everyone wanted a piece of him. He should have been flattered if not for its literalness.

It was because she was failing. Maybe he was their challenge. Like a jar top no one could unscrew, the one to open it up proving their strength. Lilith couldn't break him with her voodoo and the others wanted a go, wanted the sweet kudos for when he popped open.

She hadn't broken him but it was destroying him, probably would kill him, felt like his own personal hell for sure. The ninth circle of hell, the worst – reserved for traitors. An omen to his fate he wondered, thoughts straying. He did that a lot, with what he could remember.

What she did damaged him, he could feel the degradation of his cells, that caused the migraines that drummed into his skull. They'd probed deeper and deeper and he'd resist, only giving them what was useless. Then they'd mend him and instead of weakening him it strengthened the resistance as if for every memory they sought they set off an alarm that locked it down. They still tried though, and every time he felt his memories slipping away, except those he gave freely.

He couldn't, in this state of the cycle, recall anything that they might want to know and was in no danger of giving it away. It gave him some comfort but now all he could remember were random bits of his life. Sonata in B minor that Lilith must have despised by now, other songs, his cherished piano lessons – all that he loved and he liked those memories since he'd lost his science to their torture. It was still there and would come back but for now those things, anything that could help the wraith was gone, unaccessible even to himself. It was preferable that way, he couldn't be forced to reveal what he couldn't know.

Then there were the less than pleasant parts of his life he still had, that filled the void, that soaked his thoughts in melancholy. His awful childhood, his failed relationships, stuff along those lines that Lilith loved to play with, throwing it back at him as a revenge for his resistance.

And then there was the reason for all this, that he clung to, the only thing anchoring him.  
The green eyes boring into him, concerned, full of care.  
Her deep dark red and brown hair, a face full of life as were her eyes. They had a light that danced in them, that he was sure he had made them do on occasion, eliciting the accompanying smile that sunk his stomach.  
That was what kept his pieces together, closing in around the image of who she was.

In truth he barely remembered her, she was tied into what he needed to forget and details, events were as damned as his science was.  
But he recognised her still, knew she was important – that he did this for her, that she'd be proud and yet sad for him too.  
Not knowing what it was, who she was, sometimes made it difficult to go on.

However, he still battled, the plan branded on his brain. If everything else was ripped and erased from him that one idea would be left, he clung to it perhaps more than to her. He'd follow it through until she disappeared from his mind and on after, when he'd not know any reason and would therefore continue that one thing he knew.

Lilith was doomed and she knew it, she could see what it meant to him.  
All her attempts were futile, tried in vain. He sensed this had never failed previously which was why she refused defeat, would not believe it did not work on him.  
Even he wanted to know why that was. What was different about him that they'd never come across this before?

He stopped humming his sonata, concentrating as much as he could on Lilith.  
There was a silence between her and Bob, the guy in charge or at least ordering her around. Bob seemed appropriate, a nice average name for an average not so nice life sucking alien vampire.  
She entered his area, Bob scrutinising her movements for any disobedience.

She waltzed up to him coldly, if he didn't know better he'd say she was sulking, none of her usual adorable threats he'd gotten used to that set their anti-friendship.  
'Morning' he said, not caring if it was or not. He judged it by it being the first time to see her since he'd been awake. He plastered a dopey smile on his face, imbued never the less with a sense of victory over her.  
She snarled at him furiously and hissed at Bob too, storming from the room and lurching at Bob on her way out.  
Poor Lili thought an amused Rodney. Unless he was mistaken she'd been reassigned, demoted, booted from the project. Only fair when she'd not produced results.

He half sat in the diagonal restraining apparatus, an odd cross between coffin and cage fixed so he lay in it. Gravity held him back, as did the cuffs on ankles and wrists and the main bars crossing over the front at his chest and legs.  
He expected Bob to join him, introduce himself, get the niceties over and done with but he never did. Watching patiently from his position for a minute, then leaving in the opposite direction to Lilith.

For once since he'd met Lilith he actually feared them again. Lilith had been constant in her unfriendliness and methods. This made him worry, he struggled to work out what they'd do now.

Maybe they'd kill him. Nope, he scrapped that thought almost immediately, they'd gone to too much effort to do that. It was egotistical, as he was prone to be, but he was too important. They'd have plans, ones which he couldn't imagine. Bob was the new guy, full of ideas, and who knew what instruments of agony he might bring in with him. Which would be a really bad thing considering they'd heal him. They'd return the knowledge to him first. With Lilith's way he could resist easily and though painful it was another type than that of his body.

But real torture, not just the psychic or psychological, would be a different matter.  
Lilith never used anything more than bruises and cuts, stab wounds at worst which she healed along with the rest.  
He'd gotten the distinct impression she found that sort of thing rather distasteful, like mashing up your food, not something she wanted it appeared. Perhaps it was even because she had a bizarre fondness for him, a protectiveness – that only she could hurt him and she could take the pain away but she wanted to break him her way and his resistance earned him some respect even though she believed she would ultimately prevail, that he'd fail one day.

But she'd had her days and his hadn't come to that – it had come to Bob and Bob was a lot older looking, wiser he'd bet, certainly patient.

He hoped Bob didn't think of that method, or he'd have to bite his own tongue out rather than be able to tell him anything. Of course it'd save on the screaming too he added morbidly to his inner monologue. Funny how thoughts like those were getting more and more usual.

It was several days later that he'd become most afraid. They hadn't administered the drug this time and his mind was still numb, memories leaving gaps where they had not returned.  
They couldn't have what he knew if he didn't know. And they'd been feeding him well too, wondering if they were fattening him up. Restoring just enough to his body but not allowing him real strength, giving what was necessary for what they had in mind. It seemed more and more likely Bob wanted to trade years for information, i.e. you tell me this and I won't age you a decade in a second.

The only good, though not comforting, thought was they'd run out of years at some point.

He wished he'd had an escape plan figured out but nothing here never left any openings or any inspiration. The single point of weakness were their limited numbers on such a huge ship.  
They were the caretakers only and seemed to be just four of them for sure – Lilith, Bob and two nameless guards that might suit being called Flotsam and Jetsam.  
Then there was the whispers he'd heard outside his room on several occasions, making it more likely their numbers were six to eight strong based on what he'd seen.  
It was a wild guess really and pretty useless, coming from what little he knew but having no use to him.  
But it fueled a small glimmer of hope in his dull spirit. Something good as he slipped into a fitful dreamless sleep.

* * *

There was a painful ringing in his ears, buzzing and shrieking all in one that made his already damaged head ache. 

He opened his eyes briefly to alternating lights, flickering between white and blue. He shaded his hypersensitive eyes from the hurtful contrast.  
Then he realised the significance of what he'd done. The impulse to cover his eyes had been instinctive, done without thought but he remembered he shouldn't have been able to.  
His hands were free, marked by the inward spikes used to prevent movements of captives, but free and flying about as he commanded, waving his arms around ecstatically.

He stepped out of the restraining unit, overjoyed to be standing on solid ground before the strain overtook his weak muscles and his body hit the floor full force.  
He lay there gathering strength, flexing his limbs gently and cringing at the agony it caused.  
Finally he pulled himself up, staggering to the table nearby, using it to sturdy himself.  
He looked at it and grinned, they'd been so confident to leave all the items sprawled across it, never removed after Lilith's last interrogation when she'd questioned him on the curious objects they'd not figured out entirely.

He glanced across picking up everything he could fit on him, devoid of his original black vest which had a plethora of pockets.  
There was one item he felt tug at a memory inside. Some numbers associated with it sprang to mind and he entered them into the small keypad. Nothing much happened except for the display which had changed to show the word transmitting. He figured it to be good, it was one of his peoples. Could it be a beacon, would they come and get him?  
Even so he knew he had to get of here, he gulped unsure of how this would work out but ventured into the dark corridor bravely.

The alarm lights set his nerves on end, hurting more each second. The pattern of light and dark disorientated him and often he thought he saw them coming for him, but it was only a ghost created by his mind. A trick of the eyes that might not be coincidental, it would make sense to confuse the escapees, make them cry or shoot out revealing there position.  
He wasn't going to be foolish enough as that, unlike whoever it had worked on in the past.

He scanned the area with a small white device that seemed to show his location, not so useful on its own without knowing how to get out. He fiddled with the many buttons frustrated by it, feeling his mind dumbed down and lacking the knowledge that should have been present. He was in shock or something like it, getting worse as he progressed – he needed to get out as soon as possible. The final jab at the gadget did something, showing a wider area, less detailed but he saw what he hoped was an exit, at least for him.  
Only it also showed a holding cell, dozen of life signs filling it, off to his left.

He cursed his conscience and headed that way confident he could free them, he was smart enough to figure it out a second time. Though he wondered if he'd ever dealt with this or known how to a first time.

Once there he felt jittery, the crowds shouted and screamed out begging for a fellow humans help. He wanted to be able to do something but felt as helpless as them, no memories surfacing as he looked around. No amount of their tugging at the webbed bars moved the door any. So close to escape but he couldn't leave them there to die, the situation really sucked he thought, hating the pun that he'd made. His head pounded, he couldn't think straight and their pleas didn't help at all. He vented all his pent up rage into the wall, surprised when it gave way, hitting something like a vein underneath the skin of the ship.

He cried out, screaming swear words and cradling his broken fingers, lost in the pain until he realised the pleas had turned to cheers. Looking up he saw the doors ajar, a small gap which the children were squeezing through first, the adults queuing up behind anxiously.

They gathered round innocent but fearful faces looking to him for answers. He sucked his bloody knuckles, trying desperately to rethink his actions now that they'd involve countless others. He couldn't be reckless and they'd have no time to wait for rescue, finding it difficult to evade in a party as large as this. Everyone would be following him, he knew he needed to dial home where help would be since soon he wouldn't be any good to anyone. He rounded them up vaguely making way to salvation; the Stargate.

* * *

He pressed down his good hand onto the penultimate symbol. The people crowded the gate area, glancing up and around nervously, watching for the inevitable task force of darts that would be sent to return or eliminate them. 

The double vision returned as he racked the deepest crevices of his mind for the briefest flash of what he required, the last symbol. Tit was the ticket to safety, to warm gentle hands and rest. He could sleep for an eternity by now, but steadied himself on the dhd because he wasn't finished yet.

Every time he sought a symbol he felt himself succumb to this stupor further, the recollection of each taking from him far too much. He was near the end of what he could bear, his eyes already giving in slightly but he forced himself to the task at hand, the lives of a hundred people depended on it.

He punched the final one in, fingers only just strong enough to be able to, and the wormhole stabilised before them all.

* * *

The gate room sat in silence until Grodin spoke up. "Should I disable the shield?"  
"Yes"  
"No"  
Weir and Sheppard glared at each other, their contradictions throwing Grodin who still had no definite instruction.  
"It could be the wraith." he told her forcefully.  
"It could be Rodney." she countered angrily.  
"You willing to take that risk? Put one person over everyone else here." he asked his eyes narrowed in disbelief. 

She didn't answer him, directing her response to Peter instead. "Disable it this instant."  
Peter looked across to Sheppard, unsure what to do. Sheppard nodded in confirmation of her order despite his unwillingness and gave a quick signal to his men to get in position and be prepared.

A few seconds went by before any one appeared.  
When it did it was a river of people. Scared, running through the event horizon. The group diverting to either side of the room, flanked by Bates and the teams under his command. The fifty or so people already through the gate appeared concerned at this but calmed down, standing still whilst others continued coming, numbers trailing off slightly.

And then he emerged in the centre of it all, walking on slowly unseeing, showing no sign of stopping.

She couldn't say a word, Sheppard's face clouded with confusion. No one else said anything either apart from Carson's utterance of bloody hell.  
There was a sense of relief seeing him, a gratefulness to anyone listening that he had been returned to them but she realised something was very wrong.  
He trudged on, tranquil, as if completing a command already set. There was no recognition on his face, his eyes only blank and unfocused.

She shuddered. Rodney McKay was not there with them. His body that approached was a shell, left hollow. Where there should have been emotion there was none, not something, not anything, let alone what she could identify a the man she cared for.

He came to a full stop a metre in front of her, saying and doing nothing as she searched his dead eyes. Who she saw was lifeless, simply carrying on like the twitches of a corpse, the actions set by the signals sent to the nerves before death had occurred.  
He was different; a scruffy beard, his hair had grown an inch longer hanging messily over his forehead and tapered into spikes in places by blood. He was devoid of his black military issued vest, wearing the tattered remains of his favoured blue top with abrasions and cuts showing through the tears. However, none of this disturbed her, it was that his once vibrant blue eyes seemed dimmed. She was sure he'd comment if he was seeing this that there was nobody in, an empty house with no one home.

Even in his return she was missing the man she knew, her heart crushed by this, hurt more to see him so than to think him truly dead as they'd all thought for the past month or more.  
For a flash she thought she saw something as his eyes swam deliriously, losing focus completely. His shoulders slumped too before he swayed momentarily; collapsing as his eyes rolled into his head.

Then all chaos let loose

* * *

A/N: Only three more chapters to go and will be alot less tense but just as angsty. Hope everyone if enjoying it (despite the evilness of the whumping of course).  



	9. Chapter 9: A Wolf at the Door

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

Be aware it isn't my favourite or best chapter but it was needed and possibly a little rushed, so sorry.

I want to apologise in advance for any bad medical scenes, hard to find out what would be right and I don't have any ER episodes to refer to ;)

Also presume that the Wraith don't know they are in Atlantis because I thought it better not to presume that they'd know unlike the canon of Season 1. Hope this doesn't bother anyone, it certainly allows for a wider scope in fic.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 9: A Wolf at the Door

* * *

**

Terror reigned down on them through the Stargate, various fire coming at them through it. She called up to Grodin who was already onto shutting the gate down, striding across to the button, when an explosion rocked the control area and something whipped past her left hand side distracting her from his fate. She spun round, hearing the 'oophf' emitted by Aiden as he took a stunner to the chest, followed by a blast to herself. She never heard the thunk of Lt. Ford hitting the ground as she slipped into unconsciousness, helpless.

* * *

She woke up, finding it a difficult to open her eyes and strange to be lacking normal sensations of her body.  
Her eyes darted around, trying to work out what was happening. Medical staff were rushing all over, in a buzz and hub around one bed in particular. 

She tried to see what was happening but it was near impossible without being able to move her head.

Then suddenly she heard Carson's voice shout out, more unusually panic ridden.  
"He's going into arrest!"  
The doctors and nurses scattered, fumbling to find the equipment, prepping for a code.

As they backed up, clearing away as commanded, she saw out of the corner of her eye a pale arm with scratches on from between the medics. Too pale to be Peter and the scratches likely to confirm her worst fear.

She felt the numbness overcome her, too tired to keep up the struggle to watch the scene despite her desperation to know the outcome. She knew Carson would do his best but she feared it would not be enough.

* * *

On her second awakening she felt much better, flexing her fingers, glad that the feeling was returning. At least she had felt good enough until she'd met the concerned expression of John Sheppard. He looked haggard, with a woeful tone to his voice as he greeted her. 

"Welcome to the club." he said smiling a little more like his usual self. A smile that dropped at a thought she couldn't know but presumed was to do with the other member.

She tried to say how is he, referring to Rodney, but her mouth wouldn't cooperate. The syllables came out wrong and she grimaced at the lack of control she had, not able to ask the right questions and leaving it him to know what she wanted to hear.

"He's stable. Little worse for wear but not too bad considering the wraith had him for nearly two months."  
She stared at him, sensing there was something he held back.  
He sighed, obviously knowing he couldn't escape telling her.  
"I was gonna leave it until later, when you were recovered fully but,...... Carson thinks he might have brain damage,"

Her shock must have registered on her face despite her unresponsive muscles because he looked regretful, continuing where she expected nothing more to be said.  
"...and that isn't our only problem. But I'll fill you in a soon as we know more." he finished tactfully, skipping out of the infirmary.

She grunted, cursing his well meaningfulness. He was saving her from something, something that as the leader of Atlantis she needed to know.  
But she was as helpless here as she had been in the gate room earlier, unable to gather herself and follow the Major, content only with revenge enacted later.  
Meanwhile she lay there focusing on the annoyance against Sheppard rather than the black hole of fear at what he'd told her.

Eventually she succumbed to a disturbed sleep. Delving into a shimmering reality, all too similar to the one she'd left behind in her physical body.

_She was in Atlantis but it was empty, corridors deserted, rooms abandoned. All except the gate room, where he stood as he had hours before. Only here he was recovered, as the man she had known, his eyes shone, full of care and he held out his arms for her._

_She ran to him, hugging him emphatically, pulling him close, wanting as much of him as possible. _

_But she withdrew, a fear on top of her, and saw his eyes were bright with tears. An ominous look on his face, heroic, tragic. He held her head, cradled gently with his hands either side and spoke to her._

_The words were lost, the reality silent from then on. Finding no sense to what he tried to communicate she felt despair once more, knowing simply the troubled expression he gave to her._

_And a darkness embraced them, moving across the room as if they were eclipsed._

_Surrounded by a deep abyss, full of tortured memories that she couldn't bear a second more of ._

"There, there. It's ok lass, take deep breaths."  
She straightened up, obeying Carson's orders.

She never been scared out of wits by a dream before. Not even as a child had she felt that type of emotion. Distraught at all consuming primal evil that had been upon them both. Which made her remember, consciousness kicking back in.

"Rodney?"  
She was surprised but pleased it came out right first time. Her paralysis had mostly worn off, feeling now regained in all but the extremities she thought as she attempted to wriggle her stiff toes.

Carson went tight lipped at her mention of their mutual friend.  
His face downcast as he addressed her.  
"I think you'd betta see for ya self."

She pushed herself off the bed promptly, guided by Carson as she staggered, muscles not quite ready for walking.  
He used his other hand to draw the curtain back.  
She choked at his visage, her hand covering her mouth, not wanting to let anything more escape.

"He's awake, breathing on his own, all is well and good generally speaking but he's been catatonic for the past few hours. It might be due to the trauma of his experiences, which can't have been pretty, or it could be related to his brain damage."  
The doctor folded his arms resolutely, still holding out hope.  
"Scans revealed it was extensive but we can't be sure how it will affect him."

The tears came even though she willed them away and she found Carson's strong arms around her shoulders.  
She bit down on her knuckles, somehow relishing the pain and glad at the control it gave her. It stopped her from letting go totally. She should have been a wreck seeing him as he was, eyes staring out at the ceiling, much like he had been in the gate room, all trace of his personality gone.  
To see him sleeping would have been comforting perhaps, but then anything other than this would be more desirable.

"Why don't you sit with him, talk to him, you might just get through to him."

She was about to follow his order without question but then her mind caught up with what Sheppard had said.  
She refused the motioning of the doctor, forcing his hands away as they tried to position her into the chair.  
"What else Carson?" she demanded, falling back into her authoritarian persona easily.

He swallowed nervously and look unsure. Elizabeth took this to be an indication Sheppard had ordered him not to reveal anything.  
"The Major is handling everything, there's nothing to worry about." boasted the Scotsman unconvincingly.  
Just as she'd thought, trust Sheppard to usurp her at a time like this. He'd been doubting her effectiveness for some time and whilst she saw some truth in his reasoning it didn't make her unfit for command.

Luckily for Carson Sheppard strode in, saving the doctor form a dispute.

"Major."  
"Elizabeth." he said in reply, trying to humour her and make light of the situation  
She didn't take it this time however.  
"Major," she said stressing the use of his rank, at which he winced, realising his mistake to try to soften her up.  
"...I want to know exactly what's going on."

Sheppard and Beckett exchanged looks briefly, making her feel ever more like it was some great conspiracy.  
"You won't like it." said John, not liking having to say what it was.  
"Tell me something new. Besides could it really be that bad?" she said with confidence.

As an afterthought she wondered if she should have said the last part, because from the quick re-exchange of looks between the other two she could tell that it very well could be and her confidence had been terribly misplaced. Since when did the Pegasus galaxy give anyone here a break.

Carson stepped forward unhappily.  
"We found more than brain damage on the scans. Rodney has a wraith device in his brain, we aren't too sure what its for and even less certain about how to remove it, if it an be removed that is."

She felt worse than before, wishing she hadn't asked almost, but knowing that this information gave them power and that they had the best minds her to solve this problem. The best minds minus one she added sadly to her train of thought.

"Get Zelenka and Kavanagh and their teams on it, Simpson too." she barked out, ready to walk away and get coordinating as she did best.

Sheppard answered, as she should have expected him to.  
"We already have and they're pretty sure they know what it does, at least what one of its functions is."

She turned, meeting his eyes, fearing that this was what they'd wanted to save her from. She should have known it couldn't even be that simply or easy to handle.

"It's transmitting a wraith signal. Best guess is its leading the wraith right here to Atlantis, with no doubt about where we come from. If they weren't sure when they met us before then they will be now. Rodney's like a walking beacon."

However hard the news was she dealt with it.  
"What can we do?" she asked, directing it more to Carson, who put in his bit on the problem  
"We can't remove it without killing him, its drawing power from his body, any damage to it will be transferred onto him"'Like a wraith' she muttered, recalling that this was a recurring theme.  
"Not to mention that it's in a very delicate spot in his brain, making it a bit hard to investigate.."  
"So what do we do?" she repeated. Hoping that some one had formulated some kind of plan whilst she'd been recovering.

"They could could be here within day for all we know."  
There was an implication of his statement that she didn't want to believe.

"And?"  
She hoped he'd drop it, that she wouldn't hear him say it.

"I asked you in the gate room if you were willing to put everyone's life at risk for one man and I'm asking you again."  
There was a strength to his voice, no doubt that he was right, a tone that said he'd already judged the whole situation but she wasn't willing to give up like that, still resentful that he'd given up prematurely last time. So she countered equally as sure, not changing her mind from the actions she'd committed to by raising the shield.  
"It could be a month until they get here and it might not make any difference and if it does then we might have time to figure this out."

Carson watched them cautiously, aware that this as a big issue and neither wanted to back down.

"But it might be a day and we could use this to our advantage."  
"The 'this' is a person, your friend. What do you want us to do with him,? Abandon him on a remote planet. He's in no condition for that and we both know what they'd do with him if they realise he's worthless."

She felt her breathing hitch up but ignored it, intent only on setting Sheppard straight. Her mind in a flurry of thoughts, how could he do this, and a whirlwind of emotions, anger and fear and disbelief.

"He's also a threat and there's a chance that by sacrificing him we'll save ourselves."  
He said it like a final statement, a certainty to it she hated. Was it the only solution he'd accept? She couldn't let that be.  
"For how long? They have to know we're here by now, in this section of the galaxy at least even if not exactly where, in Atlantis, and they'll figure it out anyway. They won't give up on Earth like that."

Only then when the argument had escalated so did she see others had been listening, Ford sitting up in his bed and a groggy Grodin behind them, all watching the sensational fight for power.

And in amongst them, joining the spectators as a ghost, the pale but recognisable face of Rodney McKay. His voice croaking out her name hesitantly, sounding like a scared little boy

The others followed her gaze and they rushed over to his side.  
Sheppard getting there first, her second.

She took his hand squeezing it tightly, seeming to relax at her touch but still gazing intently at Sheppard, who glanced worried at Carson, with semi-realisation on his face.  
"You don't know who I am, do you?" queried Sheppard.  
Rodney nodded, glancing round dubiously only seeming sure of who she was, but tearful at her presence just as quickly as he truly noticed her, becoming mortally afraid.

It was as if she was the one returned from the dead. He started begging her forgiveness, hand clasping on to hers but not accepting it as proof she was real. All the same acting as if he could talk to her.  
"I didn't tell them anything, Elizabeth, I didn't tell them a thing.". He whispered the words between desperate gasps for air, appearing so terribly afraid for her.

John looked clueless, standing there his face unreadable at this revelation and Carson having gone off in a hurry to consult the other doctors.

She did all she could in the face of this news.  
"I know" she said soothingly, sitting down to cradle the crying man, rocking him slowly in a hug. "It'll be alright, I promise." she cooed to him as she stroke his matted hair. The blood clogging it making the horrors he'd suffered evident.

If only she could keep that promise.

* * *

A/N: Only two more chapters left and it does get a little happier, for a time. Please let me know what you think, it's always appreciated. 


	10. Chapter 10: Losing the Plot

Authors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

Sorry for the delay, had a hard time writing lately because of too many plot bunnies.

Here it is, with only one more chapter after this, plus the epilogue. Sorry in advance for the slightly evil cliffie but a McWeir moment abounds.

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Losing the Plot

* * *

**

His screams met her ears as she entered the infirmary. They could be heard faintly all the way down to the mess hall, which was why she was here.

It was always about her death, a muttered name that sounded like 'scinta'.  
Elizabeth felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought, then feeling guilty for it.

The nurses however where quicker, two restraining him and the third administering a sedative at which his screams died down to babbling.  
Carson came out to meet her, manilla folder in hand.  
"How they are all doing?"  
She knew she should have asked before but only now had she regained her control, acting as the responsible leader and less emotional.

Carson looked vaguely happy thinking of his other patients."Ah just released Lt. Ford and Peter has some nasty burns but should be up and about in a day or two."  
"And Dr McKay?" she asked, keeping her voice surprisingly neutral.  
Carson gave a worried glance behind him to Rodney's bed.  
"He seems to be regaining some memories. I think he has some idea who I am or at least he relaxes around me because he senses I'm trying to help. I've tried asking about it but most of the time he zones out. I think he may be having flashbacks to his torture."

She swallowed her fear, not wanting to know but needing to ask.  
"He was tortured, for sure?"  
Carson grimaced before answering.  
"Aye, not much permanent damage I can see, a few minor scars, anything done seems to be old news. Physically at least. There's even evidence he's been stabbed but its completely healed if I didn't know better I'd say that particular injury happened months ago but it certainly wasn't there at his last medical, .I'm much more worried about what they put in him that forced the healing, his neurology is quite bizarre but it could be caused by whatever they gave him, along with the brain damage. I think its either that that's affecting his memory or post traumatic stress disorder. Too early to tell how much is one or the other. One of his other wounds look quite like it was caused form some kind of intravenous drip feeding him the drugs they used but whatever they were they seem to be disappearing from his system, breaking down and ah can't get a decent sample to study to tell us what they did to him."  
She nodded in acknowledgment, saying nothing, her throat tight form a combination of rage and panic.

She made her way to Rodney's bed, pleased to see a faint smile on his face at her approach.  
Sitting down she heard his weak voice whisper "Elizabeth." One word full of wonder.  
"You're alive."  
She knew in that moment that the woman had been the 'Scinta' he mentioned over and over in his half awake nightmares, that the dream had been real. For there was no other explanation she could think of for why a man she'd considered dead would worry that she herself had been. The how and why were mysterious but it mattered little now he was back.

She squeezed his hand tightly, ecstatic inside that she could touch him, talk to him, that he was back and not just in body. There was a long way to go yet but it was something good.  
Then she remembered their little problem, a small frown escaping, her eyes avoiding him.  
She heard him attempt to say something, her behavior not lost on him.  
Luckily John walked in calling howdy to Rodney.  
She blinked back the tears, raising her head to see Rodney study Major Sheppard.  
"Sheppard, right?" he asked, looking round for confirmation.

Sheppard smirked proudly. "That's right, give the man an medal, or better yet an MRE." he said, revealing one he'd had hidden behind his back. She'd never even noticed.  
Rodney leant forward, reaching out to receive the price eagerly but Carson darted forward snatching the bag out of the Major's hand.  
"Oi, who said you could have one of these? Besides I thought you said you liked hospital food Rodney."  
Rodney pouted, staring at the MRE tucked under the doctors arm.

But the good cheer didn't last long, as the her comm activated.  
"Zelenka to Dr. Weir. We have a... solution."  
The others waited worried and she mouthed to them Zelenka's message.  
Sheppard seemed to relax and Carson also broke out in a smile. She wished she could feel so relieved but there was a hint of something untoward to the Czech tone that only she had heard.

"What problem?"  
They all turned to Rodney, his face fearful. When no one answered he asked again.  
She hadn't thought he'd be able to lipread from where he was lying and this made it all the worse.  
"What's wrong?  
Carson stepped forward.  
"There's some bad news, you'll survive, albeit brain damaged..."  
"What!" the scientist shrieked in horror.  
"You're right about that being bad news. That's why I can't remember stuff, right?"  
"Oh, no you misunderstand me."  
Rodney raised an eyebrow and Carson continued less enthusiastically.  
"Aye that's bad news alight but that wasn't the bad news I was talking about. We have a problem much worse than that..."  
This was where Sheppard piped up, getting to the point Rodney really wanted to know.  
"You're leading them straight to us."

Her link came on again, Zelenka's uncertain voice calling her. "Dr. Weir?"  
"I'm on my way. Carson, you're needed at the briefing. John, look after Rodney."  
She released Rodney's hand reluctantly, his fingers trailing off of hers trying to catch her grasp.  
With one last look she left the two men, making for the door with speed and battling the urge to stay.

* * *

The table of top scientists all stared at her, grim and guilty expressions.  
She tried to retain the earlier optimism, finding it difficult as she met a similarly gloomy face of Dr. Zelenka.  
"So what options do we have?"  
"Just the one." was his quiet reply. The enigmatic Czech was sombre looking for a change.  
"Which is?"  
It came out blunt, the words stabbing at her painfully.

"We kill Dr McKay."  
There was a stunned silence in which she hoped she'd heard wrong, that his command of English had faltered. The shock must have been evident, Zelenka catching on and seeking to explain further.  
"...by stopping his heart, as was done with Major Sheppard. The device feeds of McKay's energy just the same. Once it sees him as dead perhaps it can be extracted. It is the only solution we have come up with."

She sighed. At least it was a tried an tested way of dealing with it, if a a little drastic.  
She prompted the doctor for his opinion. "Carson?"  
Elizabeth felt the same fear again as she met Beckett's eyes, clouded with concern, the Scotsman not ashamed of his emotions.  
"I doubt his body can take it. He's been under a lot strain, we already had to resuscitate him yesterday. I wouldn't recommend it."  
"Understood."  
So much for a solution. It could kill him in the process and not merely as part of that.  
But she smiled gratefully at the the team, still hopeful on the outside.  
"Don't give up. There's still time to find another way."  
Zelenka gave her a pat on the shoulder as he escorted her out, away from the now arguing team who were back to work on another plan.

* * *

"Elizabeth"  
"John"  
They greeted each others by first name but there was still a tension from before wrung out by what she needed to discuss with him now."I need a word."  
They both started to move off but Rodney wailed at them, getting there attention.

"Hey, don't think you're getting out of telling me."  
She eyed Sheppard and Rodney, wondering what they'd say. Already pretty sure Sheppard would say go for it.  
"To try the same trick we used on the Major when he had the wraith tick."  
She gave Sheppard a look, waiting for his challenge but not expecting the yes that came instead from the bed.  
"Do it."

"Excuse me?"  
She watched Rodney carefully, wanting him to not have said what she thought he had.  
"It's the only solution right? And the wraith are closing in. It's our best chance right so just get it over with."  
He treated it as if it was obvious. Leave it to him to want to be heroic.  
"Its not that simple." she said, voice on edge.  
"Why not?" Rodney countered defiantly.  
"Carson doesn't think you're odds of survival are good."  
He laughed of all things at that, angering her.  
"They were never too good anyway, it's amazing I escaped. Of course now I know why, I'm the bait. But whatever, this is your best chance of survival so take it."  
There was a strength to his eyes that she'd seen few times, his will demanding to be done.  
"Do it."  
She walked away, Sheppard following, as she went to make the preparations.

* * *

It had been scheduled at 17:00. Beckett had wanted Rodney to have as much time as possible to recover to give him a fighting chance and Sheppard had given him six hours to get his affairs in order in case it came to the that.

Six hours to prepare for death.  
Some how it had been easier to have it suddenly upon her.  
The whole last two days having given her a false sense of hope.  
It was 15:38 now.

She sat upright on her bed, back slumped and supported by the wall. It was uncomfortable without adequate cushions but she didn't care, she wasn't really reading her book anyway.

There was a short rap at the door, three knocks in succession.  
She jumped off the bed, opening the door and letting him in.  
Rodney stood there however, unsure it he was allowed in to the sanctum.

Of course he'd never been in her quarters, she'd forgotten.  
She held out an arm to him when she saw he was holding himself up by the door, his arm muscle shaking and his bandaged hand not able to be used to support his weight.  
For once he said nothing in complaint, letting her guide him to her bed where he sat lamely.

She stood, folding her arms across her chest, not knowing what to say.  
There was what she wanted but she couldn't bring herself to blurt it out, as if saying it meant admitting he might truly die this time.

He was the first to speak  
"I don't want this to happen, for me to be death of anyone. It's the only thing that got me through it all."  
And then there came the slight tears, silent, rolling down his ashamed face.

She was there in an instant, by his side, arms around his shoulders. Still she couldn't find any words to say what she had to say, only her face communicated how she felt. He stared mournfully at her, grieving for his own loss prematurely.  
And then he stole a kiss, right away under her nose.  
It was tender and salty.  
And gone just as quick as he had been taken away from her.  
"I don't want it to be goodbye."  
At last she'd found the strength to say a little, even though she sounded far from normal as she said it. Her voice wavering, weak like she'd been taught against. Never show your doubt.  
But what was the use when it was almost hopeless and everyone knew it.

"I know." He replied, trying to reassure her with his strength.  
That was when she let go, hers tears running freely, his fingers trying to catch them all, to ease her heartbreak, even as he went through the same.

It didn't work though and he took a chance, perhaps his last and stole another kiss. Not breaking it off this time, hands lacing in her hair. Cherishing the moments he had with her, what could be his final hours alive.

* * *

A/N: More coming soon but going to bed now because I start uni again tomorow. 


	11. Chapter 11: Choosing Life

mAuthors Note: This hasn't been beta-read so I apologize if it has grammar/spelling errors in or if the characters sound a bit off. Please let me know what you think of this, complaints, suggestions; any feedback would be helpful as long as it is constructive.

Another chapter and another evil cliffhanger. Just the epilogue after this. And then maybe the sequel if there is call for it, since the sequel's been mostly planned for ages, ironing out the plot holes etc and importantly how to end it...

Spoilers: For Season One episodes 1-14

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Stargate in any incarnations of course and I'm not making any money, this is just some harmless fanfic fun.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Choosing Life

* * *

**

They walked in together, side by side. It was a relatively normal sight but not one he'd ever expected to see. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought Rodney McKay might be alive; and here they were getting ready to practically kill him again.  
Rodney smiled as he entered, it was weak and anxious but still genuine. And it was first and foremost directed at Elizabeth Weir, herself oddly calm for the situation.

John frowned at this, not sure what had caused the sudden change. Until he saw the ever so gentle and fleeting brush of their fingers together before they parted, obviously designed to go unnoticed.

Then it all clicked into place.

He smiled lopsidedly and shook his head to himself, not bothering to wipe the lingering smirk off his face as she approached in her mild manner.

"John."  
Now they were back on first name basis, and without the tension of before. Instead her eyes held a lightness as if a great burden had been lifted from her. Or a dream come true.

"So, you alright?" he asked, glancing over to Rodney who waited for the nurses to get him ready. Rodney stood waiting for the them. Stood; straight, not fidgeting one bit. No finger tapping or snapping, no pacing – he just waited, patiently.

"As fine as I can be. Why?"Elizabeth said.  
There was a hint of worry to her voice that he was sure had nothing to do with Rodney's procedure.

He motioned to Rodney , "You seem to have been rubbing off on him."  
It was an innocuous comment, fair to say but he watched her squirm very briefly before she could stop herself. He took pity on her, redirecting the conversation to continues from her last question.  
Not that this was much better a topic for her humility if he was right.

"Oh, just that we got some funny reports from the near your quarters. ATA devices randomly turning on. Zelenka's on it but we don't really know why. Someone with the gene must have inadvertently affected them, quite a range but it's as if someone lost control rather than being deliberate. Found a few new things though, kinda useful. We might want to thank them, if we knew who it was."  
Through out the his whole mini-speech she remained neutral, amazing him in her restraint.  
"So you notice anything unusual?"  
How could she get around that one he thought. But she did.  
"No, nothing like that."  
Simply worded to not be a lie and yet not reveal the truth. If she wanted it like that then she could have it like that, but he was a little disappointed to have the fun end so soon. It wasn't often he could tease Elizabeth and it went down the pan all too soon. There was Rodney but he didn't like to rain on his parade, especially when they weren't quite sure he'd make it.

* * *

Carson made his way out into the infirmary. He'd double checked everything he could think of but he was still nervous. Rodney's life depended on him and while as a doctor he was used to that he wasn't used to being attached to patients. It came with a job like this, stuck far out in another galaxy on something akin to a colony and it made it impossible to remain distanced. It was just that so far he'd managed to avoid any such serious situations, with exception of Major Sheppards very similar predicament. As he approached Rodney he grimaced and hoped they'd be that lucky twice. 

Oddly Rodney was standing there, quiet, tranquil even. Which was bloody peculiar for the man.  
He smiled as he greeted him like it was perfectly normal day. "Carson" he said, with a small bob.  
"What're you so pleased about?" he asked thoroughly confused, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Rodney bobbed again, eyes lighting up as he replied smugly. "Let's just say if I die today I'll die a very happy man."  
Carson gave him a once over, wondering if he was insane, if there had been more serous side effects from the torture or the device inhabiting him; but then he noticed Elizabeth looking equally happy, almost glowing and suddenly he could see exactly why.

He took one long glance at her before turning back to his patient. It was nice to see Rodney so jovial despite the prospect of his death but he still didn't want any details."Aye I can see why and lets leave it at that. Moving swiftly on."  
The needle came out, Carson popping off the protective cap. Rodney shifted, evidently wishing he was anywhere but there as he reluctantly held out his arm.  
He chuckled lightly, relieving some of his nerves, glad to see some things were still the same.

* * *

They all sat out side the makeshift theatre where Carson and the other doctors were with Rodney. 

He'd explained the plan of operation to her several times, trying to reassure her which was hard because he hadn't convinced himself either.

She went over it again. Carson would inform them of each step. They'd stop his heart, waiting for the minimum amount of time before trying to remove the device that was attached at the back of Rodney's head. It was small, hidden under his hair but stuck out enough that they might be able to get a grasp, avoiding need to operate. That was if they were fortunate because they only had one chance at this. This was the window of opportunity, if they left it any later they might live to regret it and as for Rodney. His chances weren't good or bad, it was a waiting game were they wouldn't know until it happened. It reminded her of something Rodney had once tried to explain at lunch. Schroedinger's cat. The part that still stuck in her memory was that until you opened the box you wouldn't know if the cat was dead or alive. It was a random link to the past, to him, but it made some sense to her right now. A slight comfort to relate it to him as he lay there in wait, anaesthetised, unable to worry about how this would turn out.

"His heart's stopped. We're gonna try ta remove the transmitter now."

Her heart raced at the thought that technically he was dead. Not properly and clinically dead though. As Carson had explained he'd still have brain activity, that he'd still have a chance to be revived as long as that was true.  
In the background she vaguely recalled someone speaking, maybe John, reassuring Carson, telling him to do his best.

She got up and paced. She never paced normally but this was different and as Sheppard had so delighted in pointing out earlier, they'd had quite an influence on each other. And she was sure he'd meant more than that, he'd known what had happened. Perhaps it was easy to. After all by the end he'd known she was breaking up over Rodney's death. She'd been right, however, to believe he was alive still. But all she'd had to go on was a dream, a nightmare that she couldn't rationalise to this day. Just another one of the mysteries she hoped wouldn't whip round and come back to bite them in the future. And how would she cope if it came true this time. She didn't want to think like that but it was possible. Possible but not necessary she thought as she shoved the idea back to the recesses of her mind. There was still hope.

The group waited in silence. Zelenka was hunched over in one of the chairs, arms crossed over tightly, bracing his body against his knees. Ford sat motionless, the young man's eyes hidden by his cap but his hand gripped tightly in both Teyla's.She looked up for a moment, eyes meeting Elizabeth's. Teyla simply nodded, saying nothing.  
Quite rightly, what could you say at a time like this. There were only two things they were waiting to hear.

"It's out!"  
They all heard him, relief in his voice.  
But it wasn't over. He wasn't breathing yet, his heart ceased beating, still requiring that push to restart.

It felt like an eternity until Carson spoke again, his emotion not muted this time.  
"He's back with us!"

* * *

He barely believed the words as they came out of his mouth. It was early days but Rodney was back with them. He watched the rise and fall of his friends chest with satisfaction. 

The other doctors were tending to Rodney know that everything was complete. Carson closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. It was over, it felt so good for it to be over. He opened his eyes again and pulled down his mask from his mouth, watching them wheel Rodney out back to the main section of the infirmary. He was sure Rodney owed someone up there big time.

His thoughts were disturbed by one of the nurses.  
"Dr. Beckett I think you should take another look at this."  
There was a clear panic in her voice as she requested his assistance and he wondered what could be wrong. She called him over to where the tray sat on one of the tables. She was leant over it, several instruments in her hand that she was using to touch the device they'd removed from Rodney.

He shuddered at the sight of it, hating to think of it being inside someone's head and glad he hadn't ever had something like that on him. When they'd extracted it there had been straight like metal rods intruding into flesh but there was a clear change in it since removal, making it look like a weird blend of the organic and technology, like nothing else they'd seen. It was certainly wraith, showing certain traits of their design but he'd be damned if he could tell if it was actually partly living or merely imitating a natural style.

He peered at it, moving closer and taking the instruments from Harpreet to see what she'd found.  
The things that had looked to be metal were long and floppy now, like dark blue tentacles. He pushed them aside to examine it further.

And he saw exactly what must have alarmed her, because it most definitely alarmed him.  
He stared at the dead centre of the underside of the wraith implant. There was a small glowing area, a faint blue pulse that was getting faster as he watched.

"Oh crap."

* * *

A/N: I suppose that was rather evil of me to leave it at. 

More coming this week hopefully.


End file.
